Do Unto Others
by bunjamina66
Summary: Episode tag to 'Poisoning the Well'. Carson hasn’t been seen since he got back from Hoff and the boys are determined to find him.


**Do Unto Others…**

**By Flossy**

Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fan fiction, and as such is for fan enjoyment only. All recognizable characters/settings are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is made. I'm afraid that despite wishing that I did, I don't own these characters. Not even my muses' voodoo could make them mine (and believe me, they used a LOT of chicken blood and other such occult doodads), nor could my militant blue badgers. DO NOT MESS WITH THE BADGERS. Still, I suppose that having the boys out on loan for a while is better than nothing…

Summary: Carson hasn't been seen since he got back from Hoff and the boys are determined to find him.

Central Character(s): Rodney and John, with Carson.

Category (ies): Humour, angst, friendship, episode tag, h/c.

Placement: Season One.

Rating: PG.

Spoilers: 'Poisoning the Well'.

Author's Note: The next in my 'Aftermath' series. I love Carson and so do the badgers! Poor baby! This is just one big fluffy blanket with lots of chocolate. You'll see…

___________________________________________________________________________

Major John Sheppard closed his eyes and let out a low, angry growl. His team had returned from Hoff and the whole thing had proved to be one big disaster. God only knew how many people had died thanks to the 'cure' that Carson had created. He knew Beckett wasn't to blame – hell, the man had done everything in his power to try and stop the Hoffans from immunising everyone – but John was sure that this was one FUBAR that would eventually come back to bite them on the ass.

Hard.

Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and glowered at his desk. Sitting and brooding wasn't going to help anyone, least of all the loveable Scotsman, so he got up, intending to get changed and go for a run to clear his head. Then he'd corner Carson and set the record straight. As he was pulling out his sweat pants, his earpiece chirped into life.

"Sheppard here," he answered as he put up a hand to activate it. "Go ahead."

"Oh, thank God," came the relieved sounding voice of Dr Rodney McKay. "Listen, I really need your help. It's important."

When it came to the scientist, it was _always _important – even if it was a late night mess raid. "Rodney, I'm not in the mood to come and play with your Ancient gizmos, okay?" John growled. "Ask someone else."

"Believe it or not, Major, that's not what this is about," McKay replied, sounding thoroughly annoyed. "I can't find Carson."

"Give the man a break, McKay!" Sheppard snapped, his temper getting the better of him. "He's got bigger things to worry about than picking splinters out of your fingers or playing nursemaid because you've caught a cold."

"For the love of God, would you just listen to me?!" Okay, now Rodney was almost apoplectic – something told the pilot that this was a lot more serious than one of the Canadian's hypochondriac attacks.

"Okay, Rodney, okay. I'm sorry," John soothed, already heading out of his quarters to the physicist's lab. "What's the problem?"

"I can't find Carson, and none of his staff have seen him. In fact, he hasn't been seen since the de-briefing with Elizabeth, and he's not answering his radio." McKay sounded positively apprehensive now, and John broke into a run. "Sheppard, I'm… I'm worried about him."

And all of a sudden, so was John – he picked up the pace and pelted down the corridor. Carson wasn't one to pull a mysterious vanishing act.

"Like I said, none of the infirmary staff have seen him and I can't get a trace with the sensors," Rodney continued over the radio, his words strained and rushed. "He was really upset when we got back from Hoff. He could be injured somewhere or lost or…"

"Okay, Rodney, calm down. Where are you?"

"My lab. Where are you?"

Sheppard came to a halt outside the lab and opened the door. "Right here," he replied, making Rodney jump.

"Christ, Major!" McKay yelped, one hand flying to his chest. "Way to freak out the resident genius!"

Sheppard waited for a few moments until McKay had calmed down and he'd caught his breath before continuing. "So what's all this about Carson?"

McKay sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. "No one's seen or heard from him for nearly three hours. He didn't show up for his shift in the infirmary, and Biro called me. I checked his quarters and all of his usual haunts but it's like the man's vanished into thin air." He grimaced. "Something's not right."

Damn straight. Carson was one of the most punctual people in the city, and for him not to show up for duty was unheard of. "Got any ideas?" John asked.

"Actually, I think I do." Rodney typed on his laptop and brought up an image of Atlantis. "We know that certain parts of the city are shielded, meaning no radio signals and no sensors," he explained, pointing to one of the outer edges of the schematic. "There's at least two places I can think of that he might be hiding."

"Which is why you need my help?" Sheppard asked. "You wanna divide and conquer?"

McKay snorted a laugh. "Not as such," he replied. "I'm fairly certain that our Head of Medicine is here." He motioned to a point on the screen. "The reason I need you is to help me talk some sense into him. He's taken it into his head that he's solely responsible for the deaths on Hoff."

"What?"

"Oh come on, Sheppard! Didn't you hear him in the de-briefing? He feels responsible. It was his vaccine that wiped out nearly fifty percent of the Hoffans."

"He wasn't the one who put it into use!" John replied heatedly.

"I know that," Rodney answered, frustration apparent. "The problem is, I don't think Carson does."

And suddenly, John saw the logic of Rodney's idea. On their own, neither man stood a chance of talking sense into the physician, but if they put on a united front…

"Okay, I'm in. What's the plan?"

McKay grinned crookedly. "Well first of all, we need to make a little detour via my quarters…"

___________________________________________________________________________

Carson Beckett sat huddled in the corner of an outdoor balcony, somewhere on the outer edge of Atlantis. He shivered as the wind picked up and bit into his arms, but made no move to return inside.

All of his thoughts were focused on how his supposed miracle drug had resulted in the deaths of hundreds if not thousands of people. He'd always hated Gate travel – and for good reason in his opinion. It just wasn't natural for the human body to be broken up into millions of particles and sent through space in the blink of an eye.

And now, after Hoff, he had no intention of ever stepping through the bloody thing ever again… except to return to Earth. Part of him knew that it wasn't his fault, that it had been the Hoffans not he who had been responsible for the inoculations, but all he could really think about was Perna.

He'd killed her.

It was such a waste. The young girl had had her whole life ahead of her and she'd been taken away in a cruel, unnatural manner, all because of his damn drug. His arrogance had led to her death and that of just over half of the population of a planet that had only just started to recover from the last culling.

Carson blinked back tears and swallowed against the lump that was rapidly forming in his throat. It wasn't fair. He should never have asked Elizabeth to agree to testing the drug on the Wraith. Dammit, he was supposed to be a doctor! Since when did doctors get to decide who had the right to live or die? Admittedly, Steve (as Major Sheppard had decided to name him) was the enemy and would have happily killed them all if given half a chance, but that didn't make it any less wrong.

Dear God, what would his mum say if she knew?

He'd have to resign. There was no way around it. People wouldn't want a mass murderer as Chief Medical Officer, would they?

"What's up, doc?"

Carson jerked his head around at the greeting to see John and Rodney stood next to him. "Bugger off," he snarled.

"That's not very nice, doc," John replied, sitting down next to him without so much as a by your leave. "Is it, Rodney?"

"I have to agree with you on that, Major," Rodney said, sinking down on the other side of the Scotsman. "Really, Carson, your manners leave a lot to be desired."

"I'm not in the mood for company, lads," Beckett told them, scowling fiercely. "So I'd appreciate it if you'd both sod off and leave me alone."

"Again with the potty mouth," Rodney said, reaching into his jacket. "Is that any way to speak to concerned friends bearing gifts?" He pulled out a bottle of Scotch and a big bar of chocolate.

"Look, I appreciate the thought, but I'm not in the mood," Carson repeated stubbornly.

"Well, doc, that's just tough, because we're not going anywhere," John replied. "Not until you've heard a few home truths."

Beckett tried to stand up, but found that the boys had wedged him against the wall. Bloody idiots.

"Ah, ah," Rodney scolded. "Not yet. You, my friend, are going nowhere until you've heard us out."

"First off, you're not to blame," John said, gazing intently at the Scotsman. "I don't care how much you think you are, it wasn't your fault. You had no idea that the Hoffans would immunise everyone as quick as they did."

"You tried to save them," Rodney continued. "You were overwhelmed and undermanned, trying to battle heavy odds."

"Next on the list," John added, ticking off his fingers, "I was the one who pushed for Elizabeth to agree to the trial with Steve, not you. I was the one who insisted that it was our only option."

"Besides which, you had no idea that the drug would cause the side effects that it did," Rodney said. "And when you found out, you tried to stop them."

"And last but not least, Perna knew what she was doing when she got the shot," John finished. "You can't be held responsible for the free will of others, doc. I know you've worked some miracles in the past, but you're not God."

Carson lowered his head, the tears from earlier threatening to make a re-appearance. "I should have done something," he croaked, his voice cracking. "I could have lied to them, or told them it was nae finished…"

"Yeah, and that would've worked so well, wouldn't it?" Rodney snorted. He looked across to Sheppard, who gave him a dirty look, but McKay just raised an eyebrow. "What?" he demanded. "The Hoffans were too keen and paid the price. Nothing anyone could have said would have made a difference and we know it."

Carson hid his face in his hands. "I can't… I can't stay here," he said quietly. "Not after this. I'm putting in a request for a transfer to the mainland."

The boys exchanged shocked glances. They knew Beckett had taken the situation badly but…

"No," Rodney spat. "No, you can't."

"Answer Man's right," John said, nudging Carson gently. "We won't let you."

"It's not up to you!" Carson yelled angrily. "This is my choice to make, not yours! Do you really think that anyone will want me to remain as Head of Medicine after this?"

"Good grief, Carson!" Rodney snapped back, his own anger getting the better of him. "Don't be so damn stupid!"

"No one on this base would let you leave," John said. "We sure as hell won't and neither will Elizabeth."

"I should never have gone."

"Everyone makes mistakes, Carson, even us. You're human! Shit happens, you deal with it and move on," Rodney told him. "Christ, if everyone ran away from every mistake they ever made, we'd be surrounded by the world's fastest marathon runners."

"We know you're feeling guilty, doc, but you've gotta let it go. If you don't then it'll just eat away at you. You can't afford to second guess yourself."

"I know that, son, but I can't help it," Carson replied. "I'm a doctor. I took an oath to help people… and look at where that got me. What I did on that planet goes against everything I stand for."

"Carson, for the last time, let it go," Rodney growled. "You're like a stuck record! If anyone's to blame, it's the Hoffan government. Actually, strike that. It's Chancellor Druhin. He was a desperate man, who wanted a miracle. The last time I checked, miracles were just make believe."

"What Rodney's trying to say is that instead of waiting like most normal people would, the Hoffans let themselves be led by pure desperation. Nothing could have prevented what happened." John sighed and bumped Carson's shoulder. "So?" he asked eventually. "What's it to be?"

"I really don't know, Major," Carson replied. "I just don't know."

There was an awkward silence for a moment, then Rodney passed the bottle to Carson. "Here," he muttered. "Wanna drown your sorrows?"

Carson eyed the bottle suspiciously. "Where'd you get it?"

Rodney blushed furiously. "I, uh, I managed to, er, stow it among my things," he said.

"What he means is, he smuggled it in on one of the science labs boxes," John explained, chuckling.

To their great surprise and delight, Carson laughed. He really, _really_ laughed. Then he took the offered bottle and had a long swig. "Wow," he said after a moment. "That's really good." He passed the Scotch across to Sheppard.

"Of course it is," Rodney said, looking offended. "I don't drink any old swill, you know."

"I meant thank you," the Scotsman replied. "Both of you."

"You're staying then?" asked Rodney, his blue eyes lighting up hopefully.

"Aye, ya radge bastard," Carson answered, elbowing him gently. "That I am. And I appreciate this."

"Hey, we're just looking out for ourselves," John said, a mischievous grin playing on his handsome features. "After all, Rodney's scared of Biro."

"I am not!" McKay huffed, snatching the bottle back. "And that's rich coming from you, Major John 'Oh-My God-It's-A-Needle-Run-For-Your-Lives!' Sheppard."

Carson suddenly felt a warm glow as he let their friendly bickering wash over him, and it had nothing to do with the alcohol. John and Rodney were right. It was as if someone had lifted a dead weight from his shoulders and he sighed contentedly.

"Hey, I've got an idea," John said. "How about we take this party inside? It's not the best weather for an outdoor picnic."

"I'll second that motion," Rodney replied, getting to his feet. He and John held a hand down and tugged Carson upright.

"I'm meant to be on duty," he protested, looking at his watch. "In fact, I was meant to start nearly four hours ago."

"Not a problem," Rodney told him, grinning smugly. "We changed the rota."

"'S right," John said, smirking at the shocked look on the doctor's face. "You're not due in until tomorrow afternoon."

"Biro and Collins have agreed to cover for you."

Beckett was speechless for a moment, then offered his friends a wide grin. "Thanks, lads, that's grand."

The trio headed inside and eventually found themselves in Carson's quarters. The chocolate had been eaten and there was now only about a quarter of the bottle left. Beckett raised his glass a bit drunkenly and hiccupped. "To Perna," he mumbled. John and Rodney drank to the toast and offered up one of their own.

"To good friends," John said.

"And even better Scotch," Rodney added.

"Aye," Carson agreed. He looked over at his clock and groaned. It was nearly four in the morning. "Don't you two have an early meeting tomorrow?"

They looked at his confused. "What?" asked John, frowning. "Do we?"

"Don't look at me," Rodney replied. "I have no idea whatsoever. It's why God invented the PDA."

"Elizabeth's gonna be so pissed if we turn up drunk," John whined.

"How about we carry on?" suggested Carson. "I'll have you know that it's a well known fact."

"What is?" asked Rodney, trying to refill his glass.

"That if you consume enough alcohol, you can drink yourself sober."

"Nah," John said, waving a hand dismissively and only narrowly avoiding Rodney's head. "Urban legend."

"No, God as my witness, 's true," Carson insisted. "Been there, done that…"

"Tossed your cookies?" Rodney completed.

"Aye."

The boys looked at each other and shrugged. "Sure," John drawled. "Whaddaya say, Rodney?"

"I'm game if you are," the physicist replied, looking mournfully at the now empty bottle. "But we don't have any Scotch left."

"Ah!" Carson exclaimed, tugging at one of his trunks. "We do." He produced a bottle of twelve year old malt. "My mum bought me this as a going away present," he explained as he struggled to open the bottle. "I was saving it for a special occasion, but I think this qualifies."

Rodney and John grinned.

"I'd say so," Rodney said.

"Definitely," John agreed.

Carson chuckled. He still felt guilty about Hoff and what had happened, but his two stubborn friends had shown him that he didn't have to take everything to heart. That he was allowed to make mistakes… and best of all, that no one would judge him for them.

"Cheers," he said as he filled up the glasses.

FIN


End file.
